


Wildfire

by TimmyJaybird



Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU
Genre: Eloping, Fluff, JayTim week 2016!, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-03
Updated: 2016-08-03
Packaged: 2018-07-22 15:40:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,399
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7444633
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TimmyJaybird/pseuds/TimmyJaybird
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tim was fairly sure he was doing everything the family was afraid he'd do, one day. And maybe no one else understood- but Jason, he was good for him. He was exactly what Tim always wanted.</p><p>He was exactly the type of thing he had to hold onto and never let go.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wildfire

**Author's Note:**

> Day three brings us "Suit and tie"!
> 
> Listen to Marianas Trench's "Wildfire" at least once while reading this... because I played it the whole time I was writing.

Tim wrung his hands together, thinking maybe he was crazy, maybe  _ this _ was crazy- standing alone, downtown in Gotham, in the Courthouse. He shifted, sucked on his tongue, and told himself that his heart was beating wildly for no reason at all-

 

Jason would  _ be there _ , like he always was. Tim trusted him-

 

But did he trust their  _ judgement _ in this?

 

He untangled his fingers, shoved his hands into the pockets of his grey slacks. He felt almost suffocating in his suit, a calm heather grey with his a black button down. His red tie felt like it was too tight, even though Tim knew it  _ wasn’t _ . It was just his nerves…

 

And  _ why _ was he nervous? Because he felt like he was going behind everyone’s backs, doing this? Because he knew that Dick would be mortified and  _ hurt _ , being cut out of such an important moment in his life- because Bruce still didn’t exactly  _ approve _ of him running around with Jason, the way he was.

 

Said there was no way to  _ explain _ it, when it would eventually hit the press. Said he couldn’t write to life the son who had died- even though Tim knew that was bullshit. Forge some documents, and he could paint an endless history for Jason, how he had never died, where he had been all these years-

 

Maybe it was a twinge in Bruce’s gut, because in a way, Tim should have looked at Jason like a brother, not a lover. But Tim  _ couldn’t _ and he didn’t  _ care _ . Jason was the Robin he had fallen in love with as a kid, Jason was haunting and all-encompassing and an enigma, an endless paradox-

 

Jason was something that made Tim feel  _ complete _ .

 

And yet- he bit at his cheek, pulled one hand from his pocket, glanced at his watch. He’d cut out of a meeting for this- he’d told Bruce he was coming back, even though he knew it was a lie. Knew he wasn’t going anywhere after this without  _ Jason _ .

 

And wasn’t that the point? The purpose? Making a statement that this,  _ this _ was forever. This was what he wanted, what he chose for the rest of his life- that he didn’t want to be anywhere without Jason ever again-

 

Tim glanced towards the doors when they opened, and for a moment his breath caught out. Jason was walking in, sunglasses still on, dark curled tussled from the heated breeze outside, a little color to those cheeks from the warmth and the sun. His black suit looked like it should have been his skin- and he’s forgone a tie completely, emerald button down popped open at the collar, giving Tim a glimpse of tanned skin that he knew, from it’s texture to it’s flavor to it’s  _ heat _ . To the sound of his nails, scratching along it.

 

“You’re late,” Tim said, even though Jason  _ wasn’t _ . Tim was just anxious.

 

Jason flashed a smile, pulling his sunglasses and leaning down, kissing the corner of Tim’s mouth. “I’m not- you’re just eager.” And it was like he was inside Tim’s  _ head _ . Tim was quiet, as Jason tucked the glasses away, rested a hand on the small of Tim’s back and gave him a gentle push, guiding him down the hallway. “You’re nervous,” Jason added, and Tim didn’t look at him, kept his eyes trained forward.

 

“You’re not?”

 

Jason hummed. “Nervous isn’t the word,” he said. “Impatient is more like it.” He smiled, and Tim heard it in his voice. “I’ve been thinking about this all morning, counting down.”

 

Tim swallowed, felt his belly tense up. They paused once they entered another room, and Jason turned, reached up and gripped his chin, forced Tim’s eyes to look into his own.

 

“I’m just going to ask once,” he whispered, “Are you sure?”

 

Tim pursed his lips. Thought about how crazy this was- how they were young, how it had taken so long to get them to  _ heal _ and that maybe they were rushing into this. How it had barely been a year, with the two of them in a relationship, how no one they loved was here-

 

And how goddamn much Tim simply  _ loved _ Jason.

 

He reached out, tangled their fingers together, squeezed Jason’s affectionately. “I’m sure,” he whispered, and the smile Jason had was warm as the early summer sun, made Tim’s entire body crackle with heat and joy. Jason nodded, pulling away-

 

But Tim didn’t untangle their fingers until absolutely necessary.

 

*

 

It felt like a sort of blur, some strange sort of fever dream. Tim, promising his life away to Jason, in sickness, health, in hell and heaven and any sort of purgatory they could find themselves in. Tim, confessing that he loved Jason for every bit the man he was- the demon and the god and the angel and the  _ mortal _ . Loved his flaws and his mistakes and forgave the blood on his hands.

 

Tim, promising that he wanted to see Jason do nothing but grow and soar on wings he had  _ earned _ .

 

Tim didn’t hear anyone tell him he could kiss Jason. He didn’t hear anyone or anything at all, except the sound of his pulse, pounding into his head- but when Jason smiled, the sort of relieved and simply  _ so in love _ type, Tim  _ knew _ \- and he had his arms around his boyfriend- his  _ husband’s _ neck, pressing close and kissing him like he had been gone, for so long. Like it was the first time Tim was seeing him.

 

Jason clutched him close, smiled into the kiss, laughed against Tim’s mouth, and Tim giggled back, as Jason pressed his forehead against Tim’s. As they had their private moment, where despite the world around them, it was simply the two of them.

 

*

 

Tim toyed with the ring on his finger, as Jason unlocked their hotel room. The gold was smooth, warming from being against his skin, but Tim like the weight of it. Like it could anchor him down. Like it somehow physically tied him to the matching band, on Jason’s finger.

 

The stepped in, the door shutting, and before Tim could move, Jason was lifting him up, hands on his ribs. Tim gave a surprise squeak, as Jason held him over his face, kissed that shock from his lips- spun them around once until Tim was laughing.

 

“You’re going to drop me,” he chided, and Jason grinned.

 

“Not a chance in hell,” he said, hoisting Tim over his shoulder now. Tim sprawled there, Jason’s hands on the back of his thighs as he crossed the room. “I’ll never drop you, Tim,” he promised, before he tossed him down onto the bed. “Throw you though,  _ that’s _ another story.”

 

Tim snorted, as Jason crawled over him, brushed his hair back. “Reassuring,” he said, and Jason kissed the tip of his nose.

 

“Just being  _ honest _ , Timbo.” He moved lower, pecked Tim’s lips. The moment he went to move away, though, Tim was reaching up, grasping at his biceps. He tugged gently, and Jason leaned back down, kissed him  _ properly _ . Slow, exploring Tim’s mouth like they had all the time in the world, and not just  _ one night _ to enjoy this bliss.

 

Tim hadn’t lied to himself, tried to fool himself. They’d be lucky for one night. They’d come to the hotel without a bag, would leave come morning in the suits they’d gotten  _ married _ in, would face the world and the consequences for taking, for once, their lives into their own hands.

 

“I’m getting us some champagne,” Jason whispered, pulling back from Tim’s mouth. Tim nodded, remained laying on the bed, as Jason got up, moving to the phone to call for room service. He reached down, fished his phone out of his pocket-

 

Three missed calls. One voicemail. Two texts.

 

_ You’re going to be late. _

 

_ Tim, answer your phone _ .

 

Tim sighed, lifting the phone to his ear, playing the voicemail. “Tim, we’re having the meeting without you. I don’t know what you’re doing, but you had better have a good explanation.”

 

Tim sighed, before his phone buzzed again- another text.

 

_ Tell me you’re alright. _

 

He sat up, raking a hand back through his hair, as Jason walked back over, sat on the bed next to him. “Let me guess,” he said, not even looking at the message on the screen, “B called you a couple times, is pissy but wants to know you’re in one piece.”

 

Tim nodded. “I shouldn’t have just… I don’t know. I could’ve told him.”

 

“Told him what?” Jason leaned his cheek onto Tim’s shoulder. “Told him you were heading across town to marry his dead son, the one he  _ still _ has reservations about, on the bad days. Tell him you were doing everything he was afraid you might do, one day.”

 

“I’m not sure he ever worried about me  _ eloping _ , Jason.”

 

“Not  _ that _ .” Jason glanced up at him. “Taking your life into your own hands, Timmy. Living for yourself and damning the rest of the world, for just a day.” There was a knock at the door, and Jason stood up, turning to bend over, kiss Tim’s forehead. “Call him if you want,” he said, “I’ll barricade the windows, if I have to. We get our  _ one night _ , no matter what Bruce says.”

 

Jason headed for the door, as Tim stared at the open message on his phone. His thumb hovered, read to click the  _ call _ option- before he glanced up, noticed Jason smiling at the bellboy, handing off the champagne in a small, silver bucket, the two glasses. Jason, who looked so damn  _ happy _ .

 

Tim licked his lips, and moved down to type out a single message-  _ I’m happy _ .

 

*

 

Tim gasped, mouth buzzing and sore as it fell open, as he pushed back against Jason’s weight. Jason had him pinned down on his belly, one arm bent and holding himself up just enough that his weight wouldn’t  _ crush _ Tim, but not enough that Tim wasn’t aware of the bulk of muscle, pressing down on him.

 

Tim squirmed, rubbing against the sheets as he tried to push back, as Jason filled him in that  _ perfect _ way he always had. Jason’s other hand moved around him, got around his neck- didn’t squeeze, simply held Tim with his head up, so Jason could breath in his ear.

 

Tim felt the press of Jason’s ring, the metal  _ hot _ now, it seemed, from their skin. It pushed right against his throat, as Jason began a mantra of Tim’s name, gasped into his ear, mingling with sweet nothings, soft  _ babygirls _ , words about how perfect Tim was-

 

And then, how much he  _ loved _ him. Over and over again.

 

Tim squeezed his eyes shut, whining out Jason’s name, turning his head and catching his mouth in a desperate, wild kiss, as he came undone at the hands of the only man he ever wanted to see his frayed edges-

 

The only man he trusted enough to tear into his seams, and see everything beneath.

 

*

 

It was well into the night, with the champagne bottle empty, the hotel room cast in darkness. Jason, asleep in the bed, on his back with Tim curled into his chest, one arm around him. Tim stared off, eyes open, listening to his boy- his  _ husband’s  _ breathing, the gentle  _ thump _ of his heart, in his chest, against Tim’s ear. Tim teased his fingers along Jason’s bare chest, tracing a faded scar.

 

A part of him thought he should still be flooded with  _ what ifs _ , with  _ what have I dones _ \- thought he should be drowning in fear and a little regret. Thought he should be feeling like he rushed into this, like he had made a mistake-

 

But, if he was honest with himself, he wasn’t feeling  _ any _ of that.

 

He smiled, turned and kissed Jason’s chest gently. In his sleep, Jason sighed, and Tim pushed himself up, studied his face in the dark. Studied a face he knew, could paint a picture of it behind his eyelids. And his smile only grew.

 

He  _ loved _ Jason. He loved him with a burning wildfire in his gut- loved him with something so all-consuming and terrifying and  _ electrifying _ he wasn’t even sure  _ love _ was enough of a title. Like this was somehow, something more. Like it transcended into a category all its own, made just for the two of them.

 

Yes, it had been fast. Rushed.  _ Yes _ , he knew they would both be facing a family that  _ disapproved _ of that, that was  _ angry _ for missing out- but Tim didn’t care. This was about them,  _ between them _ , and no one else. And the world be damned if they didn't understand that Tim knew, despite all the bad blood that had ever existed between them, that Jason loved him. Loved him so unconditionally and so fiercely that Tim could feel it, even when they were miles apart.

 

He reached out, dragged his knuckles along Jason’s cheek, before carefully standing up. He walked across the hotel room naked, heading for the window. He parted the heavy curtains, just enough to peek out, to see Gotham sparkling in all her midnight hour glory.

 

Tim leaned his hip against the sile, rubbing the edge of the curtains between his fingers. Come morning, it’d be over. They’d face reality, they’d go back to their costumes and their risks and the possibility of losing each other, every night. They’d face family and failure and everything life dared to throw at them.

 

And Tim wasn’t  _ afraid _ . If anything… he was exactly as he had told Bruce. He was  _ happy _ . Because he’d face it all  _ with _ Jason- and that was all he needed. The support, the unending love- the feeling in the pit of his belly that he  _ truly _ wasn’t alone.

 

From the corner of his eye, Tim caught movement. The flicker of a shadow, ink against Gotham’s midnight black- and he smirked. He didn’t pretend that it was anything other than the truth-

 

Bruce knew. Probably, the whole city knew that  _ Timothy Drake-Wayne _ had married  _ someone _ .

 

And it didn’t matter. None of it did- because Tim was happy, and he’d burn endlessly in he and Jason’s fire. He’d smile the entire time.

 

He let the curtain fall shut, and turned, heading back towards the bed. He crawled back in, settled against Jason’s warmth- and his husband turned, kissed his forehead in his sleep, gave Tim a firm squeeze. And Tim- he was truly, unquestioningly,  _ happy _ .


End file.
